


Trouble with ear Hustlin

by waywardimpalawriter



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Tension, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardimpalawriter/pseuds/waywardimpalawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over hearing half a conversation is never a good thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble with ear Hustlin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @claaruucha hope you like hun the idea came to me pretty quick actually.  
> Prompt #20 “H-how long have you been standing there?  
> Warnings: angst  
> Notes: Okay this wasn’t really planned but it’s how Dean came to me. I know it should’ve been a happy ending but he was telling me no not how he wants it to end. And when Dean Winchester, tells you how things are going to go you listen.  
> Set in season 11  
> Also posted on Tumblr

“Shit Sam can’t you take it a little easy?” frustration lacing your tone, as another wince graces the features of your face. 

Glaring, Sam kept pressure on your leg with one hand while searching for the gauze with the other, “If you hadn’t gotten yourself in this mess then we wouldn’t be here now would we Y/N.” 

Rolling your eyes, trying to keep the grimace at bay, “Son of a mother trucker Sam just stick it in there already would ya. Christ Dean’s gonna be back any second and your dickin’ around.” 

“Well excuse the hell outta me. This isn’t exactly easy with you moving around so much. How ‘bout you hold still.” Planted on a stool in front of you, right leg resting on his thigh open wound oozing a trail of blood while he readied the needle.    

What neither knew was that Dean had returned early from his grocery run, bags in hand when your voices travels towards the front. Shoulders tensing tighter with each word that left your lips. Thoughts circling, ideas forming and discarded, only one well two coming to mind. However, the focus stayed on the worst of the two, as he’s prone to do. He didn’t want to think either one of you would betray him in such a manor, yet the sounds being made put every nail in the coffin with each step he took. Sure he’s never said anything about the feelings he has, though Sam knew, so he hoped his little brother wouldn’t double cross him. 

“Damn that’s big,” gulping at the needle Sam held in his hand. “You sure it’s gonna fit?” 

Smirking, cause seriously you’d be scared of a little old needle. Especially with all the knife wounds, gunshot holes and various other injuries that required a patch up job. Not to mention the demons, ghosts, and other assorted supernatural entities you’ve faced. “It’ll fit Y/N trust me,” shaking his shaggy brown head. 

“It’s not your body that thing is going in,” you snark back readying for the sting. 

“Shoulda thought of that before babe,” readying himself for that first push into your skin. “You know Dean’s gonna find out about this?” 

   “Not if you keep… shit,” panting, gripping the kitchen counters edge that you sat upon, knuckles turning white. “Not if you keep your big mouth shut. Oh,” the last comes out on a hiss after another pass of the needle. 

“Keeping his mouth shut about what ex…” jaw clinching tight while leaning against the door jam, certain the scene before him isn’t what he thought it would be. 

Gulping again this time from worry and a touch of fright, “H- how long have you been standing there?”

Narrowing emerald greens come to rest on both of you, as Dean walks deeper into the kitchen arms laden with groceries. “What in the name of all that’s unholy is going on here?” 

Sheepishly, Sam looks between the two of you before going back to work patching you up and letting you explain to Dean, who stood fuming. If it were possible steam would be coming out the top of Dean’s head. Though the younger Winchester knew it had more to do with the fact that he’s concerned about you. That the reckless stunt you’ve pulled could’ve very well got you killed in another town without him there to save you. Above all he’s worried and scared shitless that he could’ve lost you, without knowing what he truly feels. 

“Well Deano it’s like this,” biting your bottom lip looking everywhere but at the man who currently has his arms crossed, after depositing the groceries on the table, staring the two of you down. You don’t even feel Sam finish patching up the small knife wound you’ve received only the cool sensation of the antibacterial ointment being smoothed over before four by four gauze and tape are place. 

Shrugging, he gives you a look that says you’re on your own this time kid. “Sorry Y/N you gotta explain this one,” raising he places a hand on your shoulder leaning down to whisper, “You need to tell him.” Before high tailing it from the kitchen, towards his bedroom and out of the line of fire.  

“Don’t, just don’t,” he states setting to work on putting food away, glancing at you every now in then to see you fidgeting with your hands. 

One moment they’d be in your lap the next under your thigh a slight wince contorting your features as you try to keep your legs from swinging. Even as a child you’ve never be able to stay still while being scolded and that’s what this felt like. Although Dean wasn’t your father, he’s only a year older for Christ sakes, nor a brother, you certainly didn’t look at the eldest Winchester that way. Sam yes, but Dean, a sigh escapes your lips as you try very slowly to slip down off the counter your thoughts starting to drive you crazy. Biting your lip to keep from crying out in pain once you managed to get on your shaky feet. He didn’t need to know how much pain you’re in nor the pity he surely direct you way. 

“What are you doing?” 

Voice deep with concern, surprised you making your body jerk to a stop another wince of pain shooting through your system. “Leaving.” 

“And possibly tearing your stitches in the process,” shaking his head, Dean walk’s over slowly slightly worried you’ll bolt like a new born baby deer. “Come here.” 

Eyes wide as you feel him wrap one arm around your shoulders, while he bent and caught you about the knees lifting you gently into his arms. “Dean put me down, you’re going to throw out your back you moron.” 

  Clicking his tongue at you, while ignore the words making his way down the hall towards your room, “Look who’s talkin’ sweet cheeks you’re the one currently with a knife wound in your thigh.” 

Huffing, one arm tossed over his shoulder to hold on the other gripping his neck burying your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of whiskey, leather and Irish spring. Not a combination that would make many women weak in the knees, well yeah it would especially mixed with the musk of Dean. Whatever that subtle scent was that drove you crazy speeding your heart rate up to the point you’re sure he hears it. 

“Hey I earned that cut fair and square, besides you should see the other guy,” you grumped wanted to childishly across your arms, but having them wrapped around Dean so much better. 

Rolling his eyes, “Seriously Y/N, it’s not just a scratch.”

“But it’ll heal Dean. I’m fine seriously.” 

“You still could’ve gotten killed. That was reckless not telling us where you’re going or even what you’re hunting. You know better than this.” 

You wanted to slap him for that comment, “Do you think I’m a child?” shaking your head while he deposits you at the edge of your bed taking a few steps back. “Wait don’t answer that Winchester I may just shoot you if it’s wrong.” 

 “I don’t think you’re a child Y/N but running off half assed no real plan, leaving no information. What if…” he stops before he could blurt out what he really wants to say. 

“What if, what Dean?” you stare at his pacing form trying to decipher what’s running through his head. “We get hurt, sometimes badly, we can even die…” 

“No,” he barks coming to stand before you. “No you’re not allowed to die, not three towns over without back up or someone to save you. You’re not to die at any time.” 

Chuckling mirthlessly, you raise on shaky legs capturing his shoulder making Dean stop in his tracks to stare down at you. “Only way to do that is become a demon, Dean and that won’t happen. Death is a part of life something you can’t change.” 

Gathering his wits, Dean cups the side of your face thumb brushing over your cheek, “I can’t lose you Y/N.” 

Breathe caught in your throat at his words, they couldn’t mean what you think, could they? “You’re not going to Dean. I’ve been a hunter for a long time it’s gonna take more than a knife wound to take me out of the game okay?”

Nodding though he doesn’t let you go, not right off, “Just next time ask for help don’t go at a case by yourself.” 

Scoffing yet you can see the worry in his eyes and it makes you pause again. Swallowing, “Promise Dean,” you pull away a little, slugging his shoulder. “Same goes for you old man. You can ask for help to.” 

Taking a step back, giving you smirk as he does, “Naw I’m a Winchester nothing can kill me,” winking at your outraged face. 

A pillow comes sailing by his head landing outside the door, “Next time I’ll aim at your head with a book Winchester,” you snark settling down in bed leg propped up on another pillow. 

Laughing Dean grabbed the fluffy miss aimed missile bringing it back, motioning for you to sit up as he puts it behind your head, hands resting on your shoulders. “Get some rest babe,” kissing your forehead, lingering for a touch longer, before turning to leave. 

Watching him leave, it’s on the tip of your tongue to call him back, to explain himself. Yet you can’t, voice stuck somewhere between your throat and brain. You’d convinced yourself long ago he’d never see you as more than a friend, best even, but nothing more than that. You could live with friendship some days others, unlike today you longed for more. For his touch, his hugs that lasted longer, for his lips but most of all his heart. You knew Sam had been right though, you should tell him. However, you can’t bring yourself to tell the emerald eyed hunter. Sighing you snuggle into your bed, eyes getting heavy from fatigue and pain, sleep consumes you with dreams of a certain handsome man. 

Out in the hall, back resting against the wall Dean can’t stop the thoughts flowing through his head. The worry, fear and love, shocking the last one, running through his mind. Normally smooth as silk with the ladies though when it comes to you he can’t get passed the feelings that you deserve better and he wasn’t it. This time it came to close to losing you and he wouldn’t have been there. The very thought scared him shitless, though he keeps his feelings for you bottled up. Maybe one day, just not today.      

 


End file.
